The Brecombe Beast
by Write Here2
Summary: A creature sighting in North Yorkshire may be the team's most dangerous mission yet. ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER - Not mine.

A/N - This is supposed to be a longer story, but I s'pose we shall see. Anyways, please enjoy - read and review. Thanks.

* * *

Ben dragged himself reluctantly out of bed. He had spent the previous night trying to chat Amy up in The Nags Head. It had seemed like a great idea then, but as he struggled into his uniform at four in the morning, Ben changed his mind. Amy, though beautiful and clever, was not worth the stampede in his head. He dragged himself to the bathroom. 

The only positives were that he didn't feel sick, and he didn't have to see his boss before making his deliveries. Ben flattened his hair with some water, and splashed his face clean. He checked his watch. With a ten minute drive to the dairy, and the fifteen minutes it took to check the orders, he had ten minutes to spare. The young man muttered under his breath, and hurried up.

He grabbed an apple and a bottle of water on his way out of the house – courtesy of his mother's health kick – and jumped into the car. It was a battered old Ford Fiesta. He had done all the work himself, including fixing the rattling from the engine by hitting it with a spanner and patching up the paint. Fortunately, it ran quite well, because that was as far as his talents went. Ben wondered absentmindedly, as he swerved to avoid a rabbit, whether that could be why Amy kept turning him down.

The car sputtered alarmingly. Ben swore. He muttered a prayer under his breath, and sighed in relief when the noise stopped. It had been through six owners, including his cousin, who had driven it like a Formula One car. It was a miracle the old girl was still on the road. When it started sputtering again, Ben rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Betty..." he said.

This time, the great car god in the sky wasn't listening, Ben was sure, because Betty rolled to a stop. He let his head fall against the steering wheel. His boss had already lectured him about lateness, and now there was no way he would get into work on time. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, fat, heavy raindrops began drenching his windscreen.

"Perfect. Bloody perfect." said Ben.

He got out of the car and drew his jacket tighter around himself. The sky was dark. There would be a storm before the rest of the village even got up. Ben kicked a tyre out of frustration. He hadn't wanted to be a milkman. The job was a temporary thing, to raise money so that he could go to university and study biochemistry. Ben glared darkly at Betty, and wished he had taken his Gran up on her offer to stay in Edinburgh.

With a heavy sigh, Ben lifted up the hood. It was steaming, and pinging as it cooled down. There was no way he was going anywhere. He was ready to kick the tyres again, when a soft _click-click-click_ made him freeze on the spot. Ben didn't know why he couldn't move, but his thumping heart persuaded him not to argue. He stayed absolutely still as something walked up behind him breathing heavily. Ben clutched the spanner in his left hand. He held his breath as a vast head appeared next to him.

The spanner was obviously inadequate. Ben squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Whatever the creature was, it was the height of two tall men. It looked like a giant lizard of some kind. Ben tried to ignore the voice in his mind. _You know what that is, Benjamin._ He wondered faintly why the voice sounded like his Gran. _That's a dinosaur!_ He swallowed, and tried not to move at all. It was right by him now, obviously aware that he was alive. Ben held back a frantic sob, as a large nostril sniffed at his hair.

* * *

Abby sat at her table, yawning. Her hair stuck up in a hundred different directions. Connor had stumbled in at a ridiculous time in the morning, very drunk, and she hadn't been able to get back to sleep. She was glad that he was getting out more. _Still_, Abby thought sleepily, _that doesn't mean you can't make him suffer for this._ It was still only quarter past five, and she didn't have to be up till seven. 

Rex jumped up onto the table, and tilted his head to the side. He edged closer to her cup of tea. Abby snatched it away.

"Bad lizard!" she said, scowling.

He skittered across the table, and flew to the other side of the room. It was ridiculous, but Abby couldn't help feeling he was giving her a disapproving look. She guiltily abandoned her plans for revenge, deciding that Connor could be let off just the once. Gulping the last of her tea, the young zoo keeper made her way back to bed.

It was then that her mobile blared into life. Abby raised plaintive eyes to the ceiling, and shook her head. She answered it reluctantly.

"Abby."

"Creature sighting, North Yorkshire." It was Cutter, and he sounded no more awake than she was.

"Right."

"We need to go now."

She made obscene gestures at nothing in particular, and took a deep breath. "Why now, Professor?"

There was a heavy pause. "Because they think it ate somebody. And because the universe hates us."

Abby made a general sound of agreement. "Dinosaur eats somebody, yeah, sounds like the universe has a problem. Do you want me to wake Connor up?"

She explained about the student's drunken night out. Abby very much doubted he would be in a fit state to chase after dinosaurs, even if they waited till midday. Connor never had been very good at holding his drink.

Cutter sounded amused, at least. "No, allow me. You can have the pleasure of waking him up when he tries to go back to sleep."

"Sounds good."

"Pick you both up in twenty minutes."

Abby slid her phone shut. She rushed up to her room, and threw clothes about in an effort to find something suitable to wear. It had been a while since she'd done any laundry. Finally, she found something, and rushed to the shower. Since working with the team, Abby had perfected the art of the two-minute shower. She was out of the bathroom in seven minutes, and had tea and toast ready ten minutes later. Just as quickly, she raced into Connor's bedroom, hopping over the mess, and crouched down next to him.

"WAKEY WAKEY!"

He shot up, and shrieked.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded, looking like the undead.

"Cutter and Stephen are going to be here in…" Abby checked her watch. "About ten minutes. Get up, jump in the shower. There's tea and toast downstairs for you." She grabbed his arm as he tried to go back to sleep. "Now!"

He wasn't out of the shower when the others arrived ten minutes later, so she made more tea. They sat at the small table, all trying to stay awake. Abby sneaked a quick glance at them both. Stephen looked dazed. Cutter looked like he hadn't actually woken up at all – like someone had just pointed him in the right direction and pushed. When Connor appeared at the bottom of the stairs five minutes later, she was annoyed. He looked fine, as though he hadn't been out at all.

"Hello everybody." Connor said cheerfully. He ignored the glares shot in his direction. "Is this mine?" Without waiting for a reply, he shoved half a slice of toast in his mouth and downed the remaining cup of tea. "Come on, then, let's go!"

Stephen followed him first. Cutter was next, with Abby last, to make sure that Rex stayed in the flat.

"I thought you said he'd been out."

Abby glanced in surprise at Cutter. "He has. I mean- he did. No, that's not right…"

"He's not hungover."

She gave her flatmate an appraising look. "I think he' s still drunk. Don't worry Professor, he'll fall asleep in the car, and wake up feeling like a brass band's playing in his head. I brought painkillers, water, and doughnuts. Perfect cure." Abby said. She checked the bag. "There's spare doughnuts as well."

Cutter perked up a bit. "What kind?"


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Thanks to readers and reviewers! Here's another installment…

* * *

Connor traced a sad face on the window. He had given up on trying to watch the landscape. The driving rain made visibility very poor. His hangover was almost gone, courtesy of Abby's cure, and now the young student was bored. There weren't even any more doughnuts left to distract himself with. The others had eaten the leftovers.

"How much further?" he asked, in a low, croaky voice.

Stephen held back a snort. "About an hour. It's quite isolated."

"Great. Killer creature. Nowhere to go for help. I think I've seen this film."

"Don't complain. It was this, or Lester's team building exercise."

The suggestion hadn't been met with enthusiasm by Cutter, and it was with a certain guilty relief that they were headed toward North Yorkshire. Since the Professor's strange behaviour after they had tried to return the future creatures to their own time, the atmosphere in the ARC had become even more tense. Of course, bringing Jenny Lewis into the picture hadn't helped. Connor winced at the memory of their recent mission to rid an office building of killer worms. A small grin crossed his face. Sometimes the job sounded strange, even to him.

"They're quiet."

Stephen nodded. "They're asleep."

Abby had declared she was going to have a nap immediately after Connor had woken up and been given all his anti-hangover instructions. She looked very peaceful. Cutter had just leant against the front passenger window and closed his eyes. In fact, he probably wasn't asleep – just trying to avoid all human contact at this unearthly time in the morning. Stephen sympathized.

"Are we nearly there yet?"

"Funny, Connor."

There was a snicker from the back seat. "I thought so." he said. "Seriously though."

Stephen glanced at the road sign coming up in front of them. "Forty five minutes. Give or take."

Connor settled back down, presumably to sleep, and suddenly the car was quiet again. Stephen enjoyed the peace while he could, well aware that things could get far too noisy before the day was over. He checked the speedometer, and pressed down heavily on the accelerator. Somewhere just outside the tiny Yorkshire village of Brecombe, a local businessman had ended up running from a creature that had probably eaten one person already. Local police had investigated, and immediately called for help, well aware that this was beyond their expertise. Stephen wondered if they realized just how lucky they were not to be caught by the creature, whatever it was.

* * *

At the edge of the village, they passed the first of many old stone buildings. The village was tucked away from major roads and large towns, and had escaped modernization, for the most part. Brecombe grew smaller every year, as young people moved away and the oldest residents died. Once it had been quite a bustling place. It was still just large enough to accommodate a pub, a village hall (comprising of part-time doctor's clinic, library, and theatre, with a chapel off to the side), and two small shops.

The Brecombe police force actually belonged to nearby Skipton. There was just one part-time policeman assigned to the village, and it was him Cutter shook hands with first. Stephen smiled inwardly at that. Politics. His boss might deny all knowledge of it, but he certainly knew the rules. Sergeant Franklin ushered them all inside the police station – actually one small room, with an overloaded desk to one side and a kitchenette at the back. He looked around awkwardly for chairs.

One of the young constables produced – as if from nowhere – a pile of fold-down picnic chairs. "Dave from the pub said we could 'ave 'em, long as we give 'em back." he said.

Cutter sat down. "You said there was an animal attack?

"Looks like. We called Animal Control, but they must've referred it onto you." Franklin said. "Local dairy owner reported it. He was coming to the village to chase up one of his milkmen, and came across the lad's abandoned car." He paused. "Gareth's never exactly been ordinary, but we thought he'd really lost it. Rambling about giant lizards."

"Ah – yeah. We're specialists. It could be an escaped lizard, something somebody imported, then realized they couldn't keep. Happens a lot."

Abby smiled thinly. She realized with a strange feeling that they had all become much better liars since the anomalies had started making themselves known.

Franklin nodded. "You'll know all about Ben? Let me tell you about our other problem…"


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Thanks to readers and reviewers! Here's another installment…

* * *

Despite the early rain, the day had started to look very bright. Rachel whistled to herself as she hung out the washing. These were the kind of times she enjoyed – with the children packed off to school, and already ahead on household chores, Rachel could relax in the late morning sun. She clipped the last t-shirt to the line and lingered, taking in the landscape. It looked beautiful – sharp greens, blues, purples. There was no substitute for it.

Rachel was glad she had decided to stay in Brecombe. Like all her friends, she had made plans to escape as soon as possible. Many of them moved to nearby Grassington; the more adventurous ones went further afield. Rather than following them though, Rachel had married the local vicar, who was ten years her senior. It had been quite the news item in sleepy Brecombe. Rachel's own parents were dubious, but all their doubts were banished when Lucy was born just ten months later. Two years after Lucy, Joshua came along. She smiled to herself, still wondering at how she had settled into village life, having spent her whole childhood dreaming of ways to escape it.

Rachel shook her head. "Silly girl." She chuckled to herself.

She gathered up her basket and the leftover clothes pegs, still whistling an unidentifiable tune. Robert swore that she was tone deaf – it didn't help that he could sing beautifully. Rachel trotted down the steep path to her back door, appreciating the sweet smell of honeysuckle. Her hand was on the door catch when a reflection in the glass caught her eye. A dark shape was standing at the back of the garden.

"Robert?"

A _click-click-click _made her heart drop to her shoes. Rachel focused on the reflection, too afraid to turn around. She held her breath. It was as though all her limbs were made out of stone. She could make out the distinct shape of a huge lizard, standing on two legs, with its head cocked to one side. Rachel inched toward the door.

There was too little space between them now. In one fluid movement, Rachel flung open the door, hurled her washing basket backwards at the creature and threw herself inside. It leapt forward, slashing her arm with one vicious swipe of its claws. Rachel ignored the blood. She locked the door, and ran through the kitchen to get the phone.

There was no answer at the chapel. Robert was probably visiting a parishioner. Rachel stabbed in another number. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Sergeant Franklin was her second cousin, beside which he was obligated to help. He answered on the first ring.

_"__Hello, __Brecombe__ police station.__"_

"It's Rachel. Something's trying to get into my house." She said. A loud _crash_ made her jump. "It's breaking down the back door."

"Rachel, what does it look like?"

Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, the young woman visualized the creature. "It's huge – like a giant lizard."

There was a second's deathly silence. "Rachel, get out of there. Get out now. Run to your car and drive as fast as you can. _Get out_."

* * *

They had barely been able to keep up with Franklin as he rushed for the car. Luckily, one of the constables had lifted his keys. With a sheepish shrug, the young man took charge. The team jumped in their SUV and followed the police car as it raced down the street with its siren blaring. Connor's tiredness evaporated. There was no time to think of it now.

"He's going to scare the bloody thing away." Cutter said.

"Isn't that good? I mean, she's trapped, isn't she?"

The Professor sighed. "Yes – but if it's scared off, it'll probably attack somewhere else."

"And we won't know where that is till it's too late."

Stephen ran a mental checklist of the sedatives they kept in the back of the car. He knew they could bring pretty much anything down, but it usually took a bit of guesswork. This time, they didn't have the luxury. If this young woman – Rachel, he reminded himself – was in trouble, they would simply load up as much ammunition, sedative or otherwise, as they could. One person had already died; he hope there would be no more.

The vicar's house was on the other side of the village, tucked away from what passed for the bustling high street. It was a small, quaint stone building. Cutter supposed it came with the job. He tightened his grip on the long rifle. In deference to their original plans to return all creatures to their own time, both he and Abby were carrying weapons loaded with sedatives. Stephen was carrying a conventional gun. Connor, much to everybody's relief after the incident in the shopping centre, wasn't carrying a gun at all.

It was suspiciously quiet. Cutter edged forward. The team followed him – Stephen to his left, Abby to his right, and Connor behind them. Sergeant Franklin had been persuaded that it was safer for him to remain in the car with the young constables.

"Professor…"

Cutter followed Abby's line of sight. It ended at a large print in the mud.

"Looks like one of ours." he said, with a grim smile.

"Professor?" Connor's low, trembling voice stopped them all dead in their tracks.

He had spotted a dark shape amongst the trees in the distance. From their position, it was impossible to really make it out. Connor slowly turned on the video camera, and zoomed in. It was a jerky, blurry picture, but enough to make a lump form in his throat. The others crowded round.

"That looks like a raptor." Abby said.

Connor nodded. "It is a raptor. Just not that kind of raptor. Judging by the distance, its about four feet tall."

"Could be a utahraptor. How long is it?"

"Maybe ten feet, including the tail. It looks mean."

"Ay, it would do. Bit on the small side."

The team looked up from the video camera. They knew with sudden, horrifying certainty, that this utahraptor was a juvenile. Which raised some very important questions. Had it come through the anomaly alone? And if it hadn't, where were the proud parents?


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – OK, this chapter gave me a lot of trouble, and thus I got annoyed, and have finally given up on improving it. I could polish it forever, or I could say 'That'll do.' And move on. So I've moved on. Having said that, I hope all my readers, and especially my lovely reviewers, like it.

* * *

Sergeant Franklin rushed forward, grabbing Cutter by the scruff of the neck. "What the hell is that?" he demanded.

"It's a dinosaur."

"Don't treat me like an idiot." The sergeant hissed furiously. "Dinosaurs are bloody extinct."

Cutter pushed him back. "Be quiet." he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"Don't tell me to be quiet!"

The Professor fixed him with a stony expression. "The more noise you make, the more likely that thing is to decide we look like a good meal." he snapped.

Connor shot Stephen a worried look. The older man nodded – he was ready to step if it became necessary. In hindsight, he wished they had waited till the Special Forces team had arrived to go after the creature, but with someone in trouble, they had no choice but to act quickly. The two young constables – Lucas and Stephens – were edging towards the car, Stephen noticed. This was well beyond their job description.

"My cousin is out there somewhere, in trouble, and you're lecturing me?" Franklin said, growling with frustration. He shoved Cutter away.

The tension hung thick in the air. Franklin paced, his chest rising and falling as he breathlessly gritted his teeth. The sergeant span round. He flung a punch, catching the side of Cutter's head. The Professor refused to retaliate. Franklin flew at him, carrying them both to the ground. For a while, Cutter was able to hold off the bigger man, ducking a nasty right hook. Another punch landed on the side of his head. Cutter caught Franklin in the stomach. It gave him time to recover before the sergeant landed a punch to his face. Before he could react, the sergeant was dragged away. Cutter watched, surprised, as the constables bundled him into the car.

Stephen held out a hand. "Should we call you Iron Mike now?" he said.

He ignored the younger man, rolling over and struggling to his feet. The world swam for a second. It quickly righted itself. He gingerly touched his lip, finding it swollen, and his nose, which seemed to have survived with just a slight bruise. There was mud all over him – caked onto his trousers, jumper, and into his hair. Cutter brushed irritably at it.

The Professor switched his focus back to the creature. It was standing in the middle of the road, pacing up and down a short stretch of tarmac. If he had been a betting man, he might have said that it was waiting for prey. His gaze drifted to a small, dirty concrete hut, just off the road.

"What's that building?" he asked.

Lucas, who had left his colleagues in the car, shook his head. "Don't know. It hasn't been used in years."

"It's empty?"

"I suppose so." He caught on. A light of hope came into the young man's pale eyes. "Do you think Rachel might be in there?"

"It's possibility – but don't count on it." Cutter warned him. "Stephen, are you ready?"

"Whenever you are."

* * *

Rachel stood in the tiny concrete outbuilding, shivering. The air was cold and clammy. One of the inside walls was covered in damp moss, courtesy of a leak in the roof. _On the plus side_, she thought, _at least there are no giant lizards_. She bit her lip to keep from crying. It had chased her car down the road. The Fiesta's wheels had skidded on the slick tarmac, sending Rachel on a cross-country joyride. It had rolled to a juddering stop, missing the outbuilding by inches. There was no choice but to make a break for it. She wasn't sure how her belly-crawl across the soft mud had gone unnoticed.

It had been a while since her escape from the Fiesta. Rachel looked around the tiny hut. There was one small wooden chair, and a long-since broken space heater. The young woman checked her watch in the dim light offered by the tiny window over the door. She dragged the chair across the room and stood on it to look outside. Rachel spat on her sleeve. Rubbing at the engrained dirt only seemed to spread it. Some came away, leaving the view slightly less murky. The lizard was nowhere to be seen. She jumped down again, and huddled down in one corner, ignoring the scuffling sounds by her right foot.

A particularly large spider distracted her for a few minutes, as it scuttled up the wall and out through a gap in the roof. Rachel had never been bothered by them. She had been called at all hours of the day and night by her husband to rescue him from _"The biggest spider you've ever seen!__"_. For a man who would happily talk a depressed drunk out of suicide, console grieving widows, and advise pregnant teenagers, Robert was a wimp. She smiled fondly – it was what made him human.

A _crack_ from outside made her jump. Rachel leapt to her feet and balanced on the old chair. It creaked ominously, but held. There was little to see out of the tiny window. She could just make out the road, and a looming shape that had to be her giant lizard.

"That can't be what it looks like." She said.

Another crack caught Rachel's attention. She looked further down the road, as far as the tiny window would allow. A grin lit up her face. Two figures were advancing in the road. She couldn't see any guns, but that, she realized, was what had made the sound. Rachel looked up and said a quick prayer. _Not bad timing_, she thought with a wry smile, _but half an hour ago would have been better!_


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – More action this time around, and more of the other characters. Although, again, I'm not massively pleased with this chapter, it is keeping my mind off the essay I should be writing. Oops...

P.S. Thanks to reviewers again, and readers who don't review – it's so easy, and I would very much appreciate your continued support. Plus, this essay is a nightmare, so any excuse to ignore it for half an hour longer...

* * *

Abby stood nervously beside her flatmate, wishing that she could do more to help. A part of her wanted to protest at not going with Cutter and Stephen, but someone needed to stay behind and protect the others. She gripped her gun tightly. Against a monster that big, she doubted it would be much use, but somehow the cold steel was reassuring. 

"They'll be alright, Abby."

She smiled at Connor. _Just like him to have a random sweet moment._ "Yeah."

"Did you find out what was up with Rex?"

It was an obvious attempt to take her mind off their current situation, but she let him get away with it. The little lizard had been uncharacteristically aggressive of late. Connor knew, despite his own reservations about keeping the little green guy, that Abby loved him. He had once compared her fascination with Rex to his own love for Star Trek – quite a concession for him, she knew.

"I think he wants a friend." Abby waggled her eyebrows. "Come on, let's find out where our soldier boys are."

Connor produced his mobile, and awkwardly dialled Jenny Lewis' number. She had curtly informed that team that morning that they need not stop for her – she would travel with Captain Foster and his men. He wondered absentmindedly if they would have stopped for her at all. The PR professional had a bad habit of getting in the way, even as she helped smooth over some very tricky situations.

"Lewis."

"Um – hi, yeah..."

"I haven't got all day."

Connor winced. "We were kind of wondering where you are?"

Her terse reply was snapped back at him. Abby eavesdropped as best she could while trying to keep both eyes on the utahraptor. Their transport had apparently crashed into the central reservation on the motorway. They might have been able to get away with simply driving on, had they not been right behind a police car. Jenny didn't elaborate any further, but judging by the tone of her voice, Abby guessed that their explanations had fallen flat. She assumed they'd called someone to vouch for them. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't big enough to stop Foster and Lewis from reaching Brecombe.

"It's just that this could get a bit nasty." Connor said.

A pregnant pause followed. "How nasty?"

At the other end of the phone, Jenny Lewis tried to think of something she had done to deserve this. _And would it kill him to give me a firm answer?_ she thought with sudden venom. _I should quit and move somewhere sane.__ Or take a holiday. Somewhere with no lizards, no snakes, no giant worms that spit god-knows-what at you. Yes, _she decided,_ that sounds rather nice._

Connor explained as best he could, given how nervous Jenny made him. After a heavy sight, she gave an ETA, and hung up without another word. In Brecombe, Connor stared at the phone and shrugged.

"She was her usual charming self." Abby said.

He shrugged. "She seems OK to me."

"Yeah, 'cause you fancy her."

"I do not."

"I see the way you look at her."

"I think you're mistaking me for Cutter."

They giggled nervously, glad that he couldn't hear them. Abby squinted out of the window, focusing on their teammates, who were slowly advancing towards the creature. Their guns were loaded and aimed. She wondered why they weren't firing. It was then that she spotted the _other_ dinosaur.

* * *

Stephen's steps were slow but steady. The speculative warning shots had done nothing except alert the creature to their presence. He had been doing this long enough now for these things to be second nature. It no longer felt strange to be stalking a four-foot tall dinosaur from the Jurassic period. Which was in itself, he had to admit, very strange. He steadied the gun in his hands. They had no real idea how fast this creature could move, but if it was anything like the velociraptors, it wouldn't give them much chance to act. 

"Alright." Nick said, softly. "Stop."

They stood far close to the creature than either of them really wanted to be. The concrete outbuilding was close now. Stephen squinted in that direction, mindful of the killer prowling in front of him. His eyes widened.

"Cutter." Nick followed his lab tech's line of sight. Just visible, in the murky glass of the concrete hut's only window, was a small, worried face. "Could be Rachel." Stephen said.

"Aye."

They readied themselves to fire, when their prey looked up. It made a shrill noise, and turned around to face the small clutch of trees in the middle of the field. Nick saw what it was responding to. _That thing has to be twelve feet tall!_

"This day just keeps getting better." Stephen muttered.

"If we stay still – maybe it won't try to eat us."

"You know, I never get tired of hearing that."

Nick grinned. "Hey, if we're really lucky, we might even get to keep all our limbs."

The larger utahraptor leant its head back and screeched. Its offspring loped across the field towards the trees. The two men breathed a heavy sigh of relief, tinged with regret. If they had tried to stop the juvenile, the parent would probably have attacked. They edged carefully towards the concrete hut. A young woman burst out of it, dirty and terrified. She launched herself at Stephen, who stumbled back in surprise.

"Oh God, what the bloody hell was that?" she sobbed.

"Rachel?"

The young woman released Stephen, and nodded. She wiped her eyes on the edges of her dirty sleeves. "Yes. You must be the people investigating –well – that." She said, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. "What is it?"

Stephen exchanged a darkly amused glance with Cutter, who took over. "It's a dinosaur. From the Cretaceous period."

"Right."

Rachel stalked off in towards the road, having decided that these people were clearly insane. She recognized her cousin's police car, and started to run. Nick chased after her. If the raptors decided to pay attention, they were all going to be in very big trouble. Stephen, for his part, kept half an eye on the killing machines in the trees behind them.


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – OK, possibly the last chapter for a few days, depending on how well or badly my essay goes. So that's fair warning – I hope you enjoy the sixth instalment of _The __Brecombe__ Beast_...

* * *

The last time he had felt this uncomfortable, he had been sitting next to his ex-girlfriend at Sunday lunch with her parents, who were having an almighty row. Foster resisted the temptation to disappear into his seat. The poor soldier who had crashed the transport vehicle was talking to – well, remonstrating with – the policemen who had refused to allow them to leave. Lewis was furious.

Foster took great pride in leading his men with honour and bravery. However, there was nothing in the code about leading them against a livid PR woman with fire for blood. It was within his rights to insist that the unfortunate Lance Corporal deal with the situation. Fortunately. Dealing with the police meant dealing with Jenny Lewis; he could do it, but he didn't want to. Foster straightened his hat guiltily. He risked a glance at the rest of his men. They seemed to be taking rather too much pleasure in the Lance Corporal's hopeless efforts. He rolled his eyes. Time to take charge, after all.

"Plunkett, go and check the supplies." he said.

The young man failed to disguise a look of abject relief. "Sir."

"Look, Mr..." the older policeman snarled.

"_Captain_ Foster. We have a dangerous escaped animal that needs to be hunted down. It has already killed one person, and has another cornered. Would you like to be held personally responsible for that young woman's life?"

That stopped his opponent in his tracks. He gaped like a fish for a few seconds, before collecting himself. Foster changed tack. There was no point in needlessly antagonising the police – particularly if they ever crossed paths again. He handed over contact information, in order that the necessary paperwork could be filled out. The transport wasn't theirs, so Foster had no security concerns. At least, none that he felt could be attributed to these two officers.

With that down, and feeling even more guilty that he hadn't stepped in before, Foster gathered the men into a coherent group. He stood reluctantly alongside Jenny Lewis.

"Right. Take a look at the central reservation. Not clever." he barked. "Let's get our new transport and get to Brecombe. They need our help." He paused. "Plunkett – don't do that again." Of all things, the young man had swerved to avoid hitting a rabbit.

"Sorry sir."

Lewis took over. She had already called Lester several times. Her boss was not amused by this situation – had vowed, actually, to cause the unfortunate Plunkett untold misery and suffering. It was probably an empty threat. Lewis had nearly made the poor man speak to Lester, but pangs of conscience had stopped her. _More's__ the pity_, she thought, with a wicked smile, as the first drops of rain started to fall.

* * *

They hadn't been able to fit into the tiny police station – not all at once, anyway – so an apologetic Sergeant Franklin had offered up his living room as a place to regroup. He had made tea and coffee, and found a tin of biscuits Rachel swore were a Christmas present from her mother. There was something else in the atmosphere. She sat on the comfortable chair, feet tucked underneath her body, and glanced suspiciously at her older cousin. They had always been open with each other, but now he refused to meet her eye.

Looking at the rest of the motley group, Rachel caught a detail that had escaped her in the rush to flee from certain death. One of them – the Scottish one, whose name she couldn't remember – had a nasty bruise on the side of his head. She glared at her cousin. He caught the look, and had the good grace to be embarrassed. Franklin scuttled from the room, back to the relative safety of the kitchen.

After a moment's rest and recuperation, the Scottish man - _Nick!_ her brain cried triumphantly – started to talk. He told a brief story that sounded more science fiction than fact. Anomalies. The past and the future, bleeding into the present. Dinosaurs and other prehistoric creatures. It sounded so ridiculous, so over-the-top, that Rachel found herself believing every word. _Robert would love all this – well, apart from the killer dinosaur part_, she thought. For a vicar, he was a worryingly enthusiastic conspiracy theorist.

"You're havin' a laugh." Lucas said. He was pacing up and down, looking tense and nervous. Rachel couldn't blame him.

"I wish I was." Nick said. "But it's all true, and we need to get that dinosaur back to its own time." He looked sideways, at the man Rachel vaguely recalled flinging herself at. _Stephen_, her brain supplied helpfully. "Or take it down. A Special Forces team will be here within the hour."

Franklin's head appeared in the doorway. "A what?"

"Did we not mention that?" Connor said. "Yeah, a load of soldiers come in and if we can't get rid of it, they sort of take over." He glanced sideways, at his – boss, Rachel, supposed. "Sort of."

Nick caught her eye, just as she was trying not to giggle at the young man's slip. He looked away immediately, failing to suppress a smile. Rachel bit the inside of her cheek, and coughed awkwardly.

"They're very good at what they do, and that's what this village needs right now." Nick continued, studiously avoiding looking in her direction.

"Why did I ever take this job, Rach?" Franklin complained. He slumped into the spare armchair, looking utterly exhausted. "One minute you're telling the village drunk that Mrs Garney really will not appreciate him doing that in her prize flowers – next you're chasing around after bloody dinosaurs." He picked up his tea, and took a long, mournful sip.


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – This is kind of a short chapter, which comes with a little request. Do people want to see Foster and Plunkett in later stories – they would only have bit-parts, like Ryan – or not? Please let me know!

* * *

Foster knocked at the door. He shifted uncomfortably. The girls sitting on the benches opposite were staring at him and his men. Laughing and pointing, in fact, whilst eating their chips. He knocked again. The door swung open, to reveal a policeman. He gestured for the soldiers to follow him into the house.

The science team – as he thought of them – was already there, drinking tea. Foster nodded a curt greeting. His men stood around awkwardly in the background, looking less like a highly trained group of soldiers, and more like skulking teenage boys. Lewis had no such problem; she squeezed past him into the living room, and took a seat. Almost immediately, a cup of tea appeared in her hand, courtesy of a very muddy young woman.

"Thank you."

The young woman nodded. "Sugar's by your foot, if you want it."

Lewis leant down, and spooned two lumps of sugar into her cup. She stirred slowly. Foster glanced back at his men. They had collected themselves now, and were looking much more respectable. He hoped he had managed to do the same.

The policeman – Sergeant Franklin – filled them in on everything that had happened since his first call for help had reached them. Foster listened intently. This wasn't going to be a mission that ended without bloodshed – whether it was theirs or, preferably, the creature's. He glanced down at the Professor, surprised to see the man looking back at him. They silently agreed that taking the creatures down was the first and only priority.

"So.." Rachel said, breaking up the tail end of her cousin's story. "How do these anomalies work, then?"

Connor looked up to find everyone waiting for him to explain. Evidently Professor Cutter was delegating.

"Um – to be honest, we're not quite sure." he said. "They can go into the future or the past. Oh, and they cause radio interference."

"And you lot come along and save the day?"

"That's the idea."

Rachel, Foster noted, did not look impressed. He could hardly blame her. So far, between the science team and his own men, they had managed to run away from the creatures and crash a car. He resisted the urged to glare at Plunkett. The poor lad was getting enough grief from his teammates.

"So what are we waiting for?"

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Cutter said. "You and Sergeant Franklin will be staying right here – where it's safe."

"Safe? Like my house, you mean?"

"The raptors are over the other side of the village. We can get them before they come this way – but we have to go now."

This was the kind of talk Foster understood. He turned to speak to his men, only to find them already preparing. A brief smile crossed his face. It was reassuring to know your unit could think for itself. As long as they didn't do it too often, that is. Foster waited for the science team to grab their things. He went first, in case Cutter was wrong about the creatures making it to this end of the village. Plunkett appeared at his right shoulder, gun gripped tightly in his hands.

Some of the lads never got used to this new assignment. Not that Foster could blame them. He ignored the impressed looks of the girls sitting on the bench, and counted everyone out of the small house. Eight of his own men, and the four-man science team.

"Ready, Professor?"

Cutter checked with his team, and nodded. "Ready, Captain."


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Hey – no one told me whether they wanted Foster and Plunkett back in later stories – which is somewhat fortunate, because I will probably take a loooooong break after this one. Unless I get an idea that just won't quit, of course. In any case, please enjoy this chapter, and (as always) please REVIEW. Thanks to those who have done, you have cheered me up lots.

* * *

They crept across the field, fanning out to make sure they caught the creatures. Foster and his men went ahead, closely followed by Cutter's team. It was a slow, quiet process. The two raptors were lurking somewhere in the woods ahead. Their unnerving low screeches made Abby wish she had chosen another profession – something safe, like filing. _Yeah_, she said to herself, _office work sounds like a great plan_. She kept going though, fuelled by curiosity and a sense of duty. It made her feel odd, this knowledge that a whole village was relying on Abby Maitland for protection.

Guiltily, the young woman glanced round at her team. _It's n__ot just me_, she reminded herself, _even if it feels that way_. She shook herself, all too aware that they were closing in on the raptors. Plus she was sure she'd caught Stephen and Cutter checking on her. It was all very well having a hero complex, Abby thought, but those two had to have something wrong with them.

Next to her, Connor was trying not to quake in his boots. Well, his Converse All-Stars, actually. They were soaked through. He had been so out of it that morning that he hadn't bothered to check the weather. Converse were _not_ good in muddy, rainy conditions. The palaeontology student scowled. They were a present from his mum – who he strongly suspected had been told what to get. She would be furious. A light went on in his head. It would, Connor reflected later, have been more of a eureka moment if he hadn't picked then to trip over a stick. He landed with a _squelch_ in the mud.

"You alright?" Cutter asked gruffly, as he helped the young man to his feet. It looked like the Professor was trying not to laugh.

"I'm fine." Connor said. "Meant to do that."

"Pay attention."

He nodded, embarrassed that he had been caught with his head in the clouds again. Connor brushed ineffectually at the mud, and sighed.

"You look a state." Abby whispered.

"Thanks. I feel so much better now."

"No problem. What are flatmates for?"

At the front of the group, Foster stopped short. He held up a hand, and gestured for everyone to crouch down. They stayed there, silently, as the raptors started to move. Massive creatures with mottled green-brown leathery skin, they had surprising grace. Cutter watched them carefully for any sign that they were about to launch themselves into an attack. He remembered all too well what could happen if you were caught unprepared. A flash of movement caught his peripheral vision. Cutter looked back at the raptors.

"Get ready..." he whispered. The team tightened their grips on the heavy-duty tranquillizer guns. _This had better work the first time_, he thought, _or we could be in trouble_.

* * *

Jenny Lewis was beyond furious. She knew that the situation was dangerous, but that didn't stop her from wanting to be involved at every stage. Logically, she also knew that her clothes were not suitable for a trek through muddy fields. And finally, she also knew that Lester was just as aware of all of this as she was. Which hadn't stopped him from calmly asking why she hadn't gone after the utahraptors with the others. _Sometimes_, she thought furiously, _I wish I'd stayed at my old job_. It had been boring, yes, but at least she hadn't been forced to deal with one idiot boss and one idiot professor. Not to mention the others...

With an undignified snort, Lewis flopped into a chair. She ignored the dubious glances of her hosts, who had wisely chosen to remain quiet. It was her job to shut them up, she knew, but this one wasn't going to be a problem. Rachel had brought up the issue before her first attempts had even been made. All of which meant that she was essentially useless. Jenny Lewis did not like feeling useless.

For one thing, it gave her time to think. She was aware that most people didn't consider this a bad thing, but in her book, it could only lead to trouble. Case in point – Cutter's very odd behaviour. It had annoyed her to the point of distraction, and now it intrigued her. Knowing what she did about the anomalies, Lewis was fairly sure that his story was possible, even if it was ridiculous. That troubled her. What if he was right? What if, in an original reality, she had been Claudia Brown?

"Do you want another cup of tea?" Franklin asked tentatively.

Lewis smiled. It was the kind of smile that made you want to run and hide. "Please."

In truth, she was grateful for the distraction. Rachel – who was going up and up in her estimations – leant forward, and launched into a raft of questions about the creatures. The young woman was no fool. She knew they were dinosaurs – had really known that before she had been told – and she knew there needed to be a cover-up. Lewis wished for a moment that Rachel had been, say, an expert palaeontologist.

"So, can you tell me anything?"

"No." Lewis said. "And I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rachel smiled. "Ah."

Her cousin appeared with the tea, which Lewis took with relief. As useful as the distraction had been, the young woman unnerved her. She sipped her tea, and stared dutifully into space.


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER – Not mine.

A/N – Been a while, hasn't it? Anyways, I'll just finish this story up, and that will probably be it from me. Hope you enjoy. Sorry about the short chapter.

* * *

Stephen waited for the signal. Of course, there wasn't complete silence. Somewhere in the background, he could make out the noise of small animals, and traffic, but that was it. Otherwise, a tense quiet had crept over the field, punctuated only by sounds from the raptors. He focused all his attention on them. Sweating gently, and grateful for the slight breeze that had just started to fan the grass, Stephen maintained a steady grip on his gun.

He was grateful that they had Foster's input on this case. A pang of guilt needled the young man as he thought of another Captain, now long dead. Ryan had been a good man. He hoped that Foster would escape a similar fate. Looking to the side, Stephen saw the Captain was almost ready to act.

Just as Foster gave the signal, one of the creatures lurched forward. It started to run, at speeds none of its opponents could ever reach. Stephen aimed carefully, swearing under his breath. It was headed straight for Plunkett. The young Lance Corporal had lost all his earlier nervousness, and seemed ready to face a born killer. Stephen waited till the perfect shot arrived, and squeezed the trigger.

Five shots shattered the strange silence. The other creature looked up sharply. It fled, panicked by the odd noises, but recognising danger. Plunkett and two other men checked over the fallen utahraptor. It looked as though they were calling Abby and Connor over. Stephen nodded to himself. That one was secure. _Just the juvenile and its protector to go_, he thought grimly.


End file.
